Flicker
by unifilar
Summary: A playful exchange of gifts leads to so much more, and they're not sure that either of them mind. [HouseCuddy]


_A Christmas candle is a lovely thing;  
It makes no noise at all,  
But softly gives itself__ away._  
- Eva Logue

* * *

She slipped into the sanctuary of her office, reluctant to strip herself of her coat, still carrying the freezing temperature from outside with her. Remnants of snow fell to the floor, taking a moment to forlornly sparkle before melting. She swatted at her hair, trying to rid herself of the flakes.

Cuddy turned to find a present on her desk.

As she approached the uninvited presence, she noticed it was carefully wrapped with silken red paper and a green bow. A small note lay atop it, one of which she promptly snatched and began reading, curiosity always a powerful motivator.

_Cuddy, _

Don't get excited- I lost a bet with Wilson and had to get you something for Christmas.

Hope you'll make good use of it.

- House

"A regular Kris Kringle." She muttered dryly, tossing the note on her desk before picking up the gift. Shaking it softly as she walked to her seat, she figured out it wasn't anything hard- she hardly heard anything when she jostled it. Plopping herself down, she crossed her legs and warily began unwrapping it. A moment later, Lisa Cuddy's mouth dropped open.

In her hands she held a pair of thong-esque, pink lace panties, the kind a man would buy his lover. _Hope you make good use of it,_ indeed. Hastily, she stuffed the gift back in the box, hoping no one saw her open it. Her face flushed at such an inappropriate gesture, though, as always, she couldn't suppress the feeling of flattery. Stifling a chuckle, she shook her head deliberately, knowing it only figured that he got her such a thing.

She could hardly imagine how House would bring up the panties in public, but she knew he'd try to do so in the most humiliating way possible. She'd have to be cautious today.

-------------------------------------------------

She was reading a patient's complaint letter at the clinic desk when Wilson stopped by.

"Hey, thanks for making House get me a thong for Christmas, but tell him I already own too many." She said nonchalantly with a grin, shuffling through some other letters. There was silence for a moment, causing Cuddy to glance up at him. Wilson looked earnestly confused.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, and Cuddy's mind drew a blank. She blinked.  
"You...made a bet..." She explained haltingly. Wilson slowly shook his head, taking a folder from Brenda, his eyes never leaving Cuddy's.

"House and I make bets about a lot of things, but that's not one of them." He told her, shrugging as he left to return to his patient, leaving her dumbfounded. She shook her head roughly, smirking to herself.

_It's not like House got a gift for me out of the goodness of his heart,_ she mentally reminded herself. _He just got me a thong; he probably got his team some gag gifts too. He only lied because if he admitted to doing good deed, Wilson would never let him live it down._

--------------------------------------

He walked in her office a few hours later, opening his mouth to demand approval on his proposal to do immediate brain surgery on his most recent patient. But before he could say a thing, she cut him off.

"Boxers or briefs?" She asked innocently, not looking up from her work. He realized instantly why she asked, then screwed his face up in mock concentration.

"Neither." He replied, limping closer to her desk. "Underwear only slows me down." He savored her expression as she tried to rid that mental image from her mind (and she wouldn't, he figured- she'd merely push the thought aside, and it would pop back up at the more inappropriate time).

"Well, that's a shame, because that means I can't return your kind favor." She mentioned, being sure to pour more than a hint of sarcasm on the word 'kind' so he wouldn't mistake her fake remorse.

"Don't worry- I'll think of a way that you can repay me." He assured her with a nod, then brightened as he 'suddenly' had an idea. "Oh, I know! You can schedule my patient for brain surgery as soon as possible! That works out perfectly." He turned smartly to leave, but had barely touched the door handle when she spoke again.

"Why did you get me a present?" She asked, taking care to add a drop of smugness along with the curiousity in her voice. He paused, lifting his head but not turning around.

"Wilson-..."

"He told me there was no bet."

Silently, he cursed his all-too oblivious friend. He needed to work on when to play along with House's carefully orchestrated lies. He faced her again, annoyed that he suddenly had her full attention. Her elbows were on her desk and she was leaning forward; normally, this would mean her cleavage would be in full bloom, but winter robbed him of this by giving Cuddy a reason to cover up. The silence was too pregnable to break with a serious answer, he decided.

"I was especially high that day." He said with an 'I-give-up' shrug. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to patients."

It was one of the few times where Cuddy had a smile on her face when House left her office.

----------------------------------------

House found a gift awaiting him on his doorstep.

He stood before it, gazing suspiciously, snow leaving a soft coating. Reluctantly, carefully, he knelt down and held it up for inspection, his hands protesting the sudden exposure to the cold by turning red. The gift wasn't wrapped, because the shape would've given it away- it was wine. Cooper Creek Pinot Noir, the label read. Around its neck was a red bow and a note.

_Dear Greg, _

I got high (or, rather, drunk) and bought this for you.

Hope you put it to good use.

Merry Christmas,

Lisa

P.S. And no, just because I bought it for you doesn't mean you can drink it during work.

"Drat." He mumbled aloud at reading the last sentence. He bristled at the use of first names, unfamiliar to such intimacy, but deciding to chalk it up to Cuddy's corny holiday tendences. Women and their emotions and all that. She probably grew up in a home where they went carolling.

He held the bottle in his hand, examining it with the eye of a drunkard who knew his drinks. Then he seemed to look through and past the gift, abruptly deep in thought.

-------------------------------------------

It was late the next day when Cuddy was preparing to leave the hospital, only needing to drop by her office to pick up her things. The hospital felt eerily empty, and her quickened steps echoed desolately off the bare walls.

She saw him before she entered her room.

Pausing, wondering what his purpose was, she cautiously stepped in, her hand lingering on the handle, as if closing it would create an area too secluded. He had pulled up a chair and an ottoman in front of her desk, and she was surprised to see him holding a glass of the wine she had bought, the bottle from whence it came sitting obtrusively atop files.

He held up his glass in greeting, and she noted that the liquid's level was pointedly close to the rim- for now.  
"I told you not to drink..." She began hesitantly, unsure of what was about to happen. She hated (though she wasn't sure if that word fit) it when he was so unpredictable like this.

"I'm off the clock. Technically, I'm not working." He clarified matter-of-factly. "Care for a drink?"

She still held the door open, he noted. She seemed torn between wanting to depart to the comfort of her home and staying to find out his motives.

"I bought that for you." She pointed out, her grip loosening on the knob.

"And you said to put it to good use." He countered, tilting his head, staring her down. Their eyes had not strayed since her entrance. "Besides, you gave me a whole bottle; unless you decided to endorse intoxicating oneself half to death, I figured you expected me to share it. Wilson left early today, so that leaves you." House always liked ending on a less-than-generous notes. She rolled her eyes and pushed the door all the way open, walking to the coat rack.

"As persuading as that offer is, I need to head home. You never know what kind of unstable psychotics could be up at this hour." She mentioned, her implication obvious. She put on her her suddenly all-too stifling coat, her hands rummaging through the pockets as she made her way to the door. Her steps became slower and smaller as she proceeded.

Her car keys were missing.

As he waiting for the realization to set in, he filled a glass for her. She marched up to him, not as half as angry as she wanted to be. A part of her was relieved to be deprived of other options, he knew.

"Where are my keys?" She asked, outstretching her hand, eyebrows angled together in an impatient manner. He merely placed a glass of wine in her empty palm, shrugging with a pure expression. He tilted his head up to look at her.

"It's a big hospital; you could've dropped them anywhere. Lots of nooks and crannies for them to squeeze into. Now, you could either spend the rest of the night searching for them, or you could help me save cabinet space by emptying this alcohol-related burden." He offered, his voice telling that this would be the last time he would ask her. She let out a sigh, shaking her head softly, but still he watched her eyes, wanting to wait until she vocalized a decision. Cuddy ran her hand through her hair, gazing into the glass and then to House again, who quirked a brow in question.

She knew he was there for another reason than the one he let on, his aversion of the topic so obvious that she was of the opinion that House _wanted_ her to know that he was there for another reason. And then she felt like she was entangling herself too deeply in House's mind (it was too late to even attempt), and decided to ignore his intentions and focus on what _she_ wanted- to go home. The only way to obtain that was to spend time with House. Lucky her.

So she threw her hands up in the air (actually, just one hand- she could only lift the other slightly without risking a spill) and let out an exasperated burst of a sigh.  
"Since I can't do anything else..." She sat down wearily, putting the desk between them, leaving the door open.

"That's the spirit!" He cheered with half a smirk, holding up his glass. She glanced to it, tilting her head, the following conversation taking place wordlessly.

'What are we toasting?' She asked by the way she hesitated, by the way her eyebrows rose.

'Whatever there is to toast.' He countered by the way he shrugged, pushing the glass closer to hers.

'Fine by me.' She consented by the way she clinked her drink with his, nodding in appreciation for his gentlemen-like behavior. Down the wine went- modestly, of course; Cuddy still wanted to keep a clear head.

Since then, the night fell into the background gently. Cuddy's eyes sparked alight with comfort and memories, while House observed her amusedly, having forgotten how she acted when she burdened by her job. Frost framed her windows, bringing an edge of chill into the room that was justly ignored by its occupants. They, in fact, could have never been warmer.

--------------------

Paki Alkin preferred the nightsift.

He worked diligently as a janitor at Princeton-Plainesboro for fifteen years. It was his only means of living. He had no family to speak of; personal social problems prevented him from finding a partner, thus no offspring. He was an only child, and his parents lived a continent away. Despite this, he was relatively upbeat, always giving the doctors a pleasant smile and a gratuitous nod. When offered the unpopular duty of being the night janitor, he took it gratefully, figuring the extra money could be put toward a possible better education.

Several weeks into the new occupation, he was pleased to find himself relatively familiar with the building. It was a late night, but Paki didn't mind- it took time to do his job right. He recognized Cuddy's office as he was finishing his rounds and had to do a double-take. Her light was on; normally, this wouldn't be a notable occurance in itself, for Lisa Cuddy liked to stay late on occassion. However, she was in the company of the disreputable Greg House. And what's more, a bottle of wine (he couldn't tell if it was empty or not) openly displayed the intimacy of the meeting.

Paki wasn't a particularly nosy person. If anything, he liked to ignore others' business and keep to himself. But just a clip of the chat made him addicted, drawing him in like a moth to flame. He took care to mop distinctly slowly as he passed by. Again. And again. And again. Snippets floated on the air to his ears, and sometimes he even stole a glance, all the while intrigued by this peculiar relationship.

_"Like you haven't thought of it." He mentioned, eyeing her curiously. _

"Am I obligated to imagine the characteristics of possible spawn with each of my employees?"  
"No, of course not. Just me."

"Uh huh." Thoughtful silence. "Well, she'd-"

"No way. The male decides the sex of the child, and I decide that it's a boy."

"He'd_ be impossibly arrogant, that's for sure." _

"And he'd be bossy, insecure, egotistical..."

"And smart, rude, immature..."

"God, I love him already. Let's make him right now."

"The poor kid would probably have the most messed-up life ever."

"He'll fit right in."

-----------------

"Oh god, House, I can't believe you did that, even if it was once." She groaned, leaning back in her chair, taking another swig.

"You've be a lot more disgusted if you were sober, I bet."

"I am_ sober. And hiring a hooker is a new low for you." _

"Right. You're slurring your words just to turn me on. Besides, surely you jest- I've had plenty of new lows since then."

"Is it working?" A poignant pause. "...and you shouldn't sound so proud of disappointments."

"Wait a sec- was that flirtatious_ behavior, Ms. Cuddy? If that's not a sign you're drunk, nothing is. And directed toward your employee, no less." _

"Oh, like you'll sue me."

"I would if I were sober."

"Yeah, right."

-----------------

"I believe I have a right to be offended." House commented with a mock hurt expression.

"Give it a rest."  
"You become Super-Cuddy to save Wilson from being fired, but you vote me off like I'm the fat bitch in Survivor?"

"The possibility of Wilson being fired was like a wake-up call."

"And what am I? The snooze button?"

"No! You were going to be fired because you're you- Wilson was going to be fired because I didn't have the guts to defend you with him."

"Oh, like that makes sense."

-----------------

"I mean, the poor girl follows you around like a lost puppy half the time." Cuddy pointed out, quirking her brow teasingly.

"And the other half, she's picturing me naked."

"Doesn't Cameron's infatuation make it difficult for her to work for you?"

"Nope. It makes her easier to manipulate. Which is why I don't deter her affection, if you could call it that. Like I said, she doesn't really like me- it's just because I'm a gimp."

"Right. Because no one could ever really like you without having something wrong with them."

"Exactly."

"...should I be insulted?"

"Not as much as Wilson is. He's much worse off than you."

"Oh. Well, thanks. I think."

"Except you being better off means that you have less of a practical reason to like me."

"So, my reason's impractical."

"You hate being impractical."

"Which is why I hate you. Isn't that the Transitive Property?"

"Ah, that would work, except we're clearly established the given that you like me. Hating me would contradict the given."  
"It's a love-hate relationship, then."

"Who said anything about love?"

"No one. It just sounds better than 'a like-hate relationship'."

"No, you said love because that's part of the given."

"Stop comparing this those damn proof tables we had to do in college."

"'This'? What is 'this', Cuddy?"

"'This' is you being exceedingly annoying after I was just starting to enjoy myself."

"Ooh, I get it, this is the 'hate' part of it, right? Then I'm certainly curious as to when I get to see the 'love'."

"Don't hold your breath."

"You said 'this' because there's something specific between us, you said 'love' because you've thought about it before, and you're changing the subject because you know I'm figuring it out."

"Ok, House, you win. You've successfully managed to twist a drunken women's words into an expression of love. You should be oh-so proud. But since you're playing that game, I'll ask you this- why are you really here?"

"I told you. I don't want--"

"Cut the bull. You stole my keys and got me drunk, the least you can do is be honest."

A small, conflicted silence. At this point, Paki outright stopped mopping and stood still, straining his ears.

"A year or so ago, I spent my holidays with Wilson. It was...not a complete snorefest. I was...curious."

"About whether I was better company than Wilson? Pft, figures. ...well?"

"Hm?"

"Am I better than Wilson?"

There was a short lull here, where Paki had to fight the huge temptation to peek around the corner. If he had to guess, Paki figured that House now had thoughtful expression on, looking to the ceiling pensively.  
"Considering that you'd look better in that thong, sure. But don't tell him I told you."

"I'm flattered." He noted the sarcasm.

"Besides, it'll be less awkward when I ask you to..." He pressed his ear to the wall, wondering why House trailed off like that.

"House, what are you...?"

"Sh!"

Paki blinked, his curiousity overwhelming him to such an extent he couldn't stand it anymore. He turned the corner.

And was face-to-face with a very angry-looking Greg House.

"Hello there. I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I believe Ms. Cuddy hired you to clean up vomit, not to eavesdrop like a premature schoolboy, and that she could fire you for not doing the former- stop me when I get warm." He spat, standing a little straighter to bring out the full force of intimidation. It could've been a trick of the light, but Paki could've sworn there was the smallest spark of amusement in his eye...

"House, leave Paki alone. He's one of my most loyal employees." Cuddy voiced, a smile hiding a snicker. House glowered at him with ferocity one last time before leaving with a grunt, limping back into Cuddy's office. He mumbled something that made Cuddy shoot him an astonished glare, that smile still present. She followed him in, closing the door behind her.

Paki grinned toothily to himself, picking up his mop and deciding to finish the hallway.

------------------------------

"I knew Cuddy should've fired that idiotic janitor when she had the chance." House muttered, his sneakers squeaking as he hustled to outrun Wilson. No such luck.

"You're the buzz of the hospital, you know." He mentioned, having to work a little harder to keep up today.

"Yeah, I figured, since the rumors have apparently reached all the way to the bottom rung of the hospital's social ladder." House retorted, glancing to Wilson to solidify the indentification. The latter held up his hands in mock defeat.

"I'm just curious as to how you'll talk your way out of this one." Was his last statement before vanishing into a patient's room. Limping faster, ignoring the pain that it caused him to do so, House made sure to give each and every doctor who dared to stray their eyes to his the nastiest scowl he could muster. Attention wasn't foreign to him by any means; he, however, preferred the attention that he himself caused. Otherwise, he was content to have everyone leave him the hell alone.  
He burst into his room with ostentation, pausing at the door to address his team, who were lounging comfortably. Foremen brightened when he entered the room, questions about the scandal dancing on his tongue.

"Despite what you have heard, no, Lisa Cuddy and I did not kiss, hug, touch, breathe on each other, or anything else that you young'ns aren't supposed to know about. Here's the file." He carelessly frisbeed it to Chase, who just barely managed to catch it. "You guys will solve it within fifteen minutes, maybe thirty if Foremen is feeling particularly irritating today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to do damage control." He left without a word, leaving Foremen with a satisfied smirk.

----------------------

They had settled into a harmonious predictability where he could locate her without too much thought. She'd be in the clinic, he figured, and accurately stumbled upon her whilst she was with a patient. Perfect timing.

"I'm busy, House." She murmured without turning around as he entered the exam room.

"Aw, but you seemed to have all the time in the world last yesterday, sweetie." He pointed out, getting that tone in his voice that usually meant Cuddy was going to have to take extra aspirin that day. Her patient, a middle-aged woman in a heavy turtleneck, fidgeted nervously.

"House, I didn't ask for a consult. Wait outside until I'm done." She warned sternly, finally turning to him, handing some medication to her patient without leaving his eyes. He had his innocently-adorable-puppy-dog facade on.

"I had such a lovely time last night. Don't feel bad that you don't remember- you WERE pretty wasted." He learned over to her patient as if to whisper a secret. "She's a very sexy drunk." He informed her with a knowing wink. The patient then hopped off the examination table, gesturing towards the door anxiously.

"I'll just leave now, Dr. Cuddy...thank you." She muttered, slipping out the door discreetly, obviously thinking the two lovers needed some time alone. Cuddy gave House a nasty look, grabbing some files off the table before heading to the exit.

"Well, you cleared the room. What do you want?" She asked expectantly, her fingers tracing the doorknob. He blinked at her for a moment, put off by her indifference.

"In case you haven't noticed, a good portion of the hospital thinks we had sex last night. This means that all your administrative buddies will think that too, and they'll start bugging you about us again." He explained as if he was talking to a child who didn't understand the consequences of playing baseball in the house and breaking a vase. Cuddy's hand fell from the door as she rubbed her temples wearily.

"Yes, I know. I, however, can't do anything about it right now, so whining about it does nothing. I'll deal with my superiors when that time comes. Until then, we can only hope Cameron will sleep with Chase again to take the heat off us." He was dually impressed, he admitted mentally; Cuddy was taking this with much more poise and civility than he thought she would. At least, that's the impression she gave, which, for the time being, was good enough.

There was a slight chance they wouldn't get out of this with their jobs, they knew. So House asked the question they were both thinking.

"Was it worth it?"

The question drifted through the air and fell upon them like indecisive snow. Cuddy suddenly found herself taking a deep breath, the air having escaped her lungs without consent. She gave him a small smile, opening her mouth to say something, then changing her mind at the last second. He waited for an answer, lifting his eyebrows eagerly. Turning her head, she nodded once, faintly yet confidently, a movement so small House wondered if he just imagined it. And then she left without another word.

Grinning, he mimicked her movement by nodding a single time, only his was more dramatic and definite and sloppy.

"Yeah, it was." He agreed to no one, leaving the isolated island of a room to face the obnoxious masses.

END


End file.
